


Loki- The Gods (Book One of Emyth's Journey)

by boldlygoingtomidgard



Series: Emyth's Journey [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fanfiction, Loki - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, Other, SHIELD, Thor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boldlygoingtomidgard/pseuds/boldlygoingtomidgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's in hiding. From Shield. From Hydra. From Asgard. From everybody. <br/>Emyths hiding, too. From herself. From people she used to know. She's different than the person she used to be- after an unfortunate accident during a storm, she's had powers- and since Shield has gone under, they haven't found her. But... Loki has. But something's different- and only Loki knows what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue- Do Not Swear To Me

**Author's Note:**

> The violence is mostly in the end- so if you want to read it but aren't sure if you'll like the kind of violence in the beginning, just give it a try. You don't have to finish it if you don't like it. There won't be much smut, if any at all. It's mostly just emotional.

Loki stood with his hands pressed flat against the short concrete wall, the only thing keeping him from falling off of the building he was standing on. The light breeze carried the many scents of Earth, of all its humanity.  
His long hair was pushed back, chilling his neck and face, though he did not flinch. He could not hide here long, that he knew. Odin would realize he had gone. Thor was not a problem. He still thought his brother to be dead.  
Then there were those Avengers, with their special action figures and their special government organization. Loki knew that as soon as they got word he was back on Earth, he would have to leave. He would never openly admit it, but he knew, somewhere in that dark, messed up little head of his, that even as a god he could not defeat Earth’s mightiest heroes. He dared to try in the past because of his army.  
He was not sad to have left Asgard. He was not sad to have not won the thrown, no. He was angry that all anyone ever saw was how he betrayed Odin, and not how Odin betrayed him. A Frost Giant! A Frost Giant would never win the thrown on Asgard. They were nightmares. He had killed his birth father, in what? An attempt to make the one who raised him notice him? He was the second son, the one who kept telling himself that someday he’d do great things even though he knew the chances were slim.  
But great things he did do, or attempt to do, because he was the bad guy. Good defeats evil, that kind of thing, but he was just on the wrong side. And whose doing was that? Nobody else’s but his brothers and fathers! It was unfair to the core of that bloody planet. He was raised to be a king, not a prisoner. All his life he was treated like the thing he never knew he was. He lived in Thor’s shadow, and now, not at all. To everyone except himself, he was dead. He had died to save his oaf of a brother. And he had not even claimed the thrown! Change, yes, he could try, but to what avail? The knowledge that he may someday be able to be looked upon as the person he once believed he was? Loki Odinson, brother of Thor? No, he would not have it.  
He would prove all his worth. He would prove that he was more than all he was born to be. He would prove that he was more than what his father had said he was.  
But he could not go about doing that yet. They had left him with no identity, and with no way to get it back. He would likely spend the rest of his many years on that rooftop, clinging to the hope that the name Loki would be remembered as a king, and not a villain. He craved power, because all of it was once taken away from him. A young child, sentenced to death amid the icy land of Jotunheim, rescued by the Asgardian king, raised to believe he had a chance. And what chance was that, really? The chance to, what, be a part of a family that he so clearly did not fit in? To be an outcast among the people he played with growing up? To be deeply hated by most, and strongly disliked by others? Not even his armies could ever see him as a ruler, so it seemed.  
An adopted child of two worlds: two enemies. A key to peace? No, a key to destruction.  
~  
“I love you as my brother, no matter your origin.” Thor had once said to him, clutching Mjolnir and clenching his jaw.  
“I am no brother of yours!” Loki had yelled, “I was born to be your enemy, we were to fight for our separate kingdoms! We were to hate each other, and instead I was forced to live out my childhood here, with you, thinking that I could be the kind of Asgard!”  
“You are my brother! I swear to you!” Thor was yelling now, as well.  
Loki couldn’t help but to choke on his anger. “Do not swear to me! You cannot love a Frost Giant any more than you love a perfect stranger! I am not your brother!”  
Their mother- or rather, Thor’s mother- had been listening the entire time, standing quietly in the corner. She did not want them to fight, though she expected it.  
“We have grown together, fought together, played together-“  
“No, you grew with me as your shadow! Not even our friends could respect what I was! A king!”  
Thor took a deep breath, his fist wrapped tightly around Mjolnir. “Loki, you are not a king.”  
“It is my birthright!” Loki shouted, his eyes red from the sting of oncoming tears. “It is my birthright to have a chance! Or so I was taught!”  
“And a chance you had,” Thor said, lowering his voice as his mother winced, “We both did.”  
“Oh, no,” Loki barked, “it was you who Odin favored! Not me! I never had a chance!”  
Thor did not speak. Instead, he turned in the direction of his mother, ready to apologize for the fight, leaving Loki behind, not thinking much of his rage.  
“You’ve all created this monster…” Loki whispered.  
Thor stopped, turning his head slightly to the side. “No, Loki. You were born a monster, but raised as a child of Asgard. You chose the path you walk from now on.”  
Loki let his eyes fall to the floor, defeated, as usual, by his older brother. “You will see…” he muttered under his breath, “you will see how being a monster… is just in my nature. I will not hold myself back any longer. I will claim what is mine.”  
He glanced up at his mother placing a hand on Thor’s cheek.  
“I am not your brother.”


	2. Chapter 1 - Crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we're introduced to Emyth- the main character.

Part One - Define ‘Hope’  
Chapter One - Crack

 

I always knew I wasn’t normal.  
Kind of normal, sure.  
But not the kind of normal you see in everyone. It’s normal to want to be different, for instance, but all I’ve ever wanted was to fit in with the crowd. I had an odd name. Emyth. I wanted something more fitting, more normal… more like Stephanie or Jessica or Anna or… something other than Emyth.  
I’ve always been more of a recluse, too. Loved books. Horses. Fanfiction. Emotional TV shows. Not a big people-person, though.   
The lightning crashed outside of my window, and even though it’s been doing that for a good hour now, I still jumped. I stared back longingly at the paddock in which the people I was staying withs horse was bucking and crying.   
I’ve been a foster kid since I was six.  
Well, I was adopted at around seven, but my mom died in a car accident my dad drank himself into oblivion out of guilt. I was twelve when he was put into some mental hospital in North Dakota.   
Back to the foster system I went.  
I never knew my real parents, either. All I ever heard about my birth mom was that she was a young, sweet girl, with too much on her plate to take care of a child by herself. Never knew anything about my father, though. Never cared much for him.  
Crack!  
I jumped, turning to face the horse again. Everyone else had gone to sleep. He was jumping and running, as if something were trying to hurt him. It wasn’t raining- yet- so no one put him in the barn, but he was still getting spooked.  
I snuck over to the coat rack and grabbed a rain coat. It was smooth and green, much too big for my rather small body. The green looked good against my pale skin, and somehow fit nicely with my sleek black hair.   
I threw the hood over my head and tugged on the rain boots I had worn here this morning as that bloody old social worker dropped me off.   
I cracked the door open an inch to feel if it was cold. It wasn’t- just very humid.  
My lips turned into a grimace as I stepped out into the open, my eyes squinted against the sudden sharp drops of water. I didn’t really know why I wanted to go put that horse in the barn- hell, I didn’t even know how to put the horse back in the barn. All I cared about was taking care of it.   
The ground was icy and crunched under my feet, giving me a steady rhythm to follow as I made my way across the large backyard. My eyes felt heavy with sluggishness. My mind felt numb. I could sleep forever after this day, after this night. I thought that I would.   
Not in a suicidal way, or anything. Not really. I wanted someone to miss me, and right at that moment, not a soul existed that would show up to the funeral. If I even got one, considering the fact that, once again, no one would show up.  
“Woah, woah,” I said, my voice rough in my throat, “calm down, boy. Just a thunder storm. It’ll pass.”  
I wasn’t inside the paddock- thank God, may I add- when the horse jumped up and fell onto its back, scrambling to get away from something.   
I looked up, squinting against the rain and the bright flashing lights. I heard the tell-tale cracking of a tree about to fall, the eerie din of wood breaking…  
“Go!” I yelled at the horse, jumping over the fence, “Get in the barn!”  
But it wouldn’t move. More lightning. More thunder. Crack, crack, crack.  
I started pulling on the horse’s mane, wrapping my arms around its long, smooth neck and tugging it… all to no avail. My heart raced. It wouldn’t move. Why wouldn’t the horse move?  
The ground started shaking. I found it hard to keep my balance as I continued to pull the horse, only staying on my feet out of pure will.   
“Help!” I screamed in the direction of the house I was staying in. “Wake up! Help! HELP!”  
No lights turned on, and not a sound filled the air except for the echoes of my screams and the sudden silence. No shaking, no raining, no thunder… just the dark winter sky, filled with storm clouds and nothingness.  
The sudden quiet surprised me. I didn’t have time to move out of the way of the falling tree- I was so struck by how much more terrified I became in the presence of silence.  
The creaking of the trunk stopped, and was followed by an earsplitting snap as the entire thing came down upon the horse and I.   
I dove for the barn, rolling in the dirt and manure as I did. My raincoat became stained brown, but it didn’t matter much- I would die, surely, under that tree, along with the horse- which still hadn’t moved.  
The tree hit my back at the same moment a flash of lightning hit the ground. I could feel myself surge with adrenaline as my ears filled with the miserable cry of the dying horse, still frozen in place. All of my wishes for sleep vanished under the pressure of that slim, bare tree.  
I kicked my feet hopelessly, clawing at the dirt to get away. I wasn’t paralyzed, not yet. I couldn’t feel anything at all, not really. I just knew that I could move, so I did.  
To my surprise, I wiggled loose from under the trees many branches, not caring to notice my veins suddenly glowing a sharp blue-silver right under my skin.   
I stood, jumping and moving every inch of me that I could. I should not have survived, I sh-  
I reached my arm out, taken aback by the sudden burst of energy blowing up inside of me. For a second, I thought I had died and moved on to be a ghost. But, no.   
There was lightning shooting from the tips of my fingers.  
I jumped back, staring at my bluish-silver skin, almost certain that I was dreaming. I reached up, as if out of instinct, and grabbed the electricity from the sky, holding it in my hand like a child might hold a rubber ball. I ran my fingers through it- warm, silky, glowing…  
The word mine spread throughout my mind fast, taking over me. I owned the lightning, I owned the light and the electricity, it flowed through my veins and claimed me.  
No, no, I’m not normal. I’m Emyth. I’m different. I’m special. I’m a freak.  
My thoughts had begun racing too fast for me to process them, the blue orb disappearing from my palm. I blinked feverishly, my heart pounding in my chest, the sudden urge to run and never stop running overcoming me. I pushed myself forward, jumping high and over the fence, landing with a thud on the icy ground. The lightning pulsed through me, making my muscles tense and relax over and over again until I was squeezing my fists together and my eyes shut against the wind.  
I felt the ground beneath me smoothen, and heard the tapping of my feet against the rocky asphalt. Where I was going, I did not know. But a longing had replaced the tiredness, a longing for a person... A person whose face shone in the back of my mind, distant, reaching out for me...  
Mother! Yes, yes, my mother! I could see her, lying in a hospital bed, sick, calling for someone... I couldn't hear her, but I saw her crying. Crying for what? For who? Everything was too fast for me to process, but I did see her, miles away, the only clear thing on that cloudy day.  
Then, as if I was transported there by magic, I was standing at the hospitals entrance, my fingernails drawing blood as they pushed against my palm. The electricity faded, and I stared, exhausted, at the sign above the big glass door.  
An entire building dedicated to one thing, and my mother was there. How I knew? Not a clue. Not yet.  
The sign read: Center of Oncology. The letters were white and streaked with rain, reflecting the dim glow of the street lamps as they flickered out. Before the darkness came, I saw my reflection just as the bluish glow subsided. What have I become?


	3. Chapter 2 - Mom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emyths powers start acting up, giving her super acute senses and visions.

Chapter 2 - Mom

 

The only lights were the ones coming from inside, as the entire city around me had become a blackened void. I willed myself to step into the warmth, to the welcoming embrace of sight. But something was caught in my throat, something was holding me back.  
I forced my hand to touch to handle of the large glass door, my fingers wrapping around the cool metal carefully, hopefully. Maybe I had been knocked out by the tree, and this was a dream. I longed for my real mothers touch, for her love, and it would make sense if I thought I could find her. But here? Getting treated for cancer? The image of her lying in bed with blood stained lips was still fresh in my memory, and I could feel a kind of hurt I never felt before surface, my eyes flashing the same silvery blue that my skin had. I would grow to know that hurt like I had known my adoptive mothers favorite color. It became a part of me, just as her lips against my forehead had. It burned in my heart, a fire that could not be put out by any means.   
I pushed the door open, taking in a deep breath of the hospital-scented air. Clean. Latex. Lemony, like bathroom soap. Strong, like hand sanitizer. My nose wrinkled in disgust.   
I felt my eyes return to their green haze- spots of blue erupted in them sporadically, little hints of one of my parents. I didn't know who I resembled more, if at all. The vision I had of my mother lying in bed was too dull for me to see her face, just the bright red that stained it.   
I had never been in that part of the hospital before, but my feet guided me up two flights of stairs and outside of a closed wooden door. Nurses passed me, their head either forward or down, not looking at the few crying people that lined the halls. A sign beside the door had everything I ever wanted, but still, not enough.

Patient: Victoria Jackson  
Doctor: Esther Claire  
Illness: Advanced Stage Breast Cancer  
Terminal

The word "terminal" hit every part of me, and with a sudden kick in my stomach, tears started spilling over, trailing down my cheeks. I had never known this lady. I had never run into her arms after school or curled up in her bed when I had the stomach flu. But seeing her name there, right next to that word, made me want to collapse with grief. She was still my mother, and I was positive that I loved her.  
I pushed the door open, greeted immediately by the stench of vomit and soap. A woman sat up in bed, holding a small bucket in front of her, blood dripping from her lips. IVs hooked up to her arms were connected to a bag that hung by her heart monitor, and on that bag was the word: chemo. I felt my breath get stuck in my throat.  
Her hair was nonexistent, and though I knew she was young, she had wrinkles carved into every inch of her face. Her eyes were light blue, dull in the bright hospital lights. Her blanket was around only her legs, and her gown was flat against her chest. Her breasts were gone.  
Frail fingers wrapped around a morphine pump, her nails bit down to small stumps on her fingertips. It took her a second, but her eyes wandered up to me, and once they met mine, she began to glow. All of her sickness left her, and in that moment, she was my mother. Her cracked lips twisted up into a grin that was so big it looked painful, especially for a person in her state.  
"Emyth!" She whispered, reached out one hand to me. "I knew you would find me. There was not one doubt in my mind."  
"I-" I choked, taking a step towards her, "I... Mom?"  
She smiled wider, still, patting the bed next to her. I sat, the sheets wrinkling around me.  
"Oh, you look just like your father..." She said hoarsely, reaching out to touch my hair. I flinched once, but moved closer to her after I did. Guilt was rising in my throat and it tasted of bile. I loved this woman, but I was scared of her. She looked so ill. Something that horrible just had to be contagious.  
"I... I don't know him." I shrugged, closing my eyes as her boney fingers brushed through my tangled black hair. "I've only ever heard about you."  
"Yes, yes, I know..." She said, and I opened my eyes at the tone of her voice. She was crying. "Oh, how I wish he could be here right now..."  
"Is he...?" I began, my voice trailing off as what I was about to ask hit my tongue. I pressed my lips into a flat line, staring at her intently.   
"No, no... He's gone, in a way. He will not come back... I wish he could be here, holding my hand."  
I felt a sudden surge of anger pulse through me, but I fought the electricity that was rising. I put my hand in hers, tangling our fingers together. She gasped as she felt my cold skin, drawing circles with her thumb along the side of my index finger.  
"Oh, so much like him..." Another tear fell from her eye. "Your cold, pale skin. Your green eyes, your black hair... Oh, you're a mess, my Emyth..."  
There was something about how she called me hers that made me cry harder. I looked down at the dirt coating the raincoat I wore, a smile rising on my face. "The storm... I don't know what happened-"  
"You were born for great things. Do not explain yourself, you need not do that... No, no, he never felt the need to. Have you...?" She stopped herself from asking the last question, biting her bloody lip. "No, I suppose you haven't. You haven't been touched by him since the day you were born."  
"What is it?" I asked, sadness bubbling up inside me, "have I what? Mother?"  
Her head fell back, and she smiled at me, almost absently. Her eyes shimmered for one last second before they were replaced by emptiness. Her hand squeezed mine and then became limp, and her heart monitor began to ring. I stood, backing away from the lady that gave birth to me. She wanted nothing but my father in her last moment, and he was not there. Dead, no, he wasn't dead. I didn't know that for sure, but she had told me. And I had believed her.  
The doctor came in, her face twisted into a frown. "Are you her daughter? She kept talking about how she knew you'd come."  
I nodded, my chest numb with horror and shock. "How long has she been sick?"  
She came up to me, turning the monitor off and fixing my moms sheets. "Years now, poor thing... Just when we thought it was better, she relapsed, and... We had to do all that you see. It was too late. We had missed the cancer completely."  
"Did she say anything about my father? Where he might be?" I asked in a hurry, tears curving around my cheeks.  
"No, nothing. She had told me about him. Never said his name. You look like him, from what she described..." She paused for a second, looking me up and down, her hands falling into her pocket. "You should go home now, sweetie. She told me to give this to you when you came."  
She handed me a necklace. It was gold and reflected what little light was there, with an emerald in the center of a small ring. I held it, staring at it with my mouth open.  
"She mentioned that your father gave it to her before he left. She said that if you wear it, he'll know who you are."  
I put it on in a rush, my fingers fumbling with the clasp. It was heavy, but it felt right against my cold skin. I looked up at her, but she had gone. I glanced down at my mother one last time, and even though I had never seen her before, she looked at peace lying there, gone from this world.  
I kissed her forehead lightly and turned to leave. I stood for one more second, breathing in the smell of disease. I thanked God for not making me suffer anymore than I was. If I had grown with her, I would be torn to shreds. But something told me that it could never have been that way, that I would have been in and out of foster homes all my life no matter what.   
I walked out into the hallway, my raincoat dried. I could see the drops of water I had left before. I followed them back down the two flights of stairs and out the door. It was no longer raining. It was no longer pitch black.  
The sky had cleared, and in the distance was the outline of New York. I turned on my heel, and began my trek down the road. Whatever was out there, whoever was walking those streets- I would find them. My fingers glowed once again, tiny lightnings popping up between them, like static.  
I was born for great things. That's what she had said.


	4. Chapter 3 - New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet loki in this chapter c:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to be warned about in this chapter...

My legs were numb by the time the sun had risen again. I had walked for miles, not stopping for any breaks. My mind raced, my fingers tapped at my legs over and over again in no particular pattern. There had to be a point to all of this.  
There had to be.  
Why did I have this sudden purpose thrust upon me? Why did I suddenly find my mother, moments before her death? Why did I have... Powers?  
The answer seemed simple at the time. I was losing my mind, and since I had never felt such feelings in all my life, pleasant or not, I decided I'd let myself remain insane.  
I had all but slowed to a limp at that point, my eyes still wide and aware. I wasn't tired, really- just sore. A tree had fallen on me only hours before, and I had not stopped walking since my mothers death...  
A car from behind me had started beeping and my head whipped around, my fingers pulsing with an energy of unease.  
"Hey, kid!" The man in the front set yelled, rolling to an almost complete stop just as I did. "Need a ride?" His lips curled into a grin, and he bit his lower lip to hide his sudden longing. His long greasy hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, one of his strong arms hanging out of the window of the faded red pickup truck.  
I squinted, biting my lower lip. "Where are you going?" I asked, slowly approaching his window as he pulled to the shoulder.  
"Into the city, as I suspect you are..." He said, raising his eyebrows. "So, what'll it be then? In or out? I don't got all day." My heart began to thump, waves of energy spreading through me. My ears twitched and my eyes darted back and forth, as if I were nervous, but it was more than that- I could feel my senses growing more acute, each touch, taste, feeling, sight, sound...everything was more pronounced now that I felt threatened. I could feel my eyes about to pop, but I had felt that before- before they started glowing. Fear? Anger? Sadness? I could not pinpoint exactly what I was feeling. Threatened? Annoyance? Nothing seemed to sum it up well enough except for... Well, except for everything.  
I peeked into his passenger seat and back seats, scanning for anything that might-  
Now what are the odds that someone tries to kidnap me today, too?  
He saw my eyes grow wide, and he immediately reached out his window and squeezed his hand around my arm, his eyes burning with anger and lust. His fat fingers kept pushing down harder and harder, and I could feel that I would bruise.  
I felt the electricity pulse through me, shocking him as it reached my arm. He winced, but kept his grip.  
"Let go of me." I growled through clenched teeth, "you'll regret this. Please-" I begged, not sure of what would happen. It was like there was a beast inside of me, clawing its way out, protecting me from this man, this monster in the car before me.  
He began pulling me closer, tapping the barrel of the gun with his free hand. With every tap of one of his fingers, I could hear my heart beat faster, feel my entire body shake with electricity and power. I could feel my eyes change into that glowing blue again, my veins surging with a silvery blue color. I opened my palm to him out of what felt only like reflex, shocking him with a bolt of blue electricity. I stared down at my hand in shock, at my fingers shaking with the sudden burst of... I didn't even know what to call it.  
Magic?  
He jumped back, holding his face in his hands, the burns evident down his neck. "How did you do that?!" He screamed, kicking his feet in pain.  
The power made me hunger for revenge. He thought he could get away with hurting me? No. No, I wouldn't allow it. A deep instinct inside of me made me crave vengeance, made me feel angry, betrayed... I pressed one hand flat against the door of his car and let the electricity push it back, it rolling three, four times before stopping in the middle of the road, upside down, the door blackened with ash. Blue lines streaked the windows, and through them I could see the man writhing in pain. A strange pleasure flooded through me at the sight of his blood. The oncoming car slammed on its brakes, the tires screeching against the dry asphalt as it slammed into the upside down pickup. Soon there were more cars, each one piling onto the other...  
I felt no guilt, not yet. I turned on my heel and took off running, my eyes glowing in the dim morning light. I was determined not to stop again for anything, not to let anyone distract me from whatever goal this new me was trying to reach. What was in New York? There were aliens, superheroes... Maybe I was looking for something along those lines, though I can't quite remember what I was thinking, as my mind had begun to race with horror at what I had just caused. People screamed. Sirens blared. Helicopters roared overhead. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my skin again. More tears. Never ending floods of tears down my face. Each drop of water stung me, but I couldn't help but embrace the pain and force my way through it, letting it motivate me.  
I hoped that someone would force me to come to a stop so I could have a moments peace. Panic instead of regret. But nothing came, as everyone was too distracted with what happened to take notice of the young girl racing down the highway. Maybe, if someone did, I wouldn't have ended up where I needed to go. Maybe I would have ended up in some Shield facility... Or Hydra. I know now that I had been running from the threat of Hydra, an instinct that was buried inside me just as the anger was. But I wasn't running towards Shield, either. I'm not sure I would have fought them if they found me, not then. I was looking for a place to hide, to be at peace... And what better place to hide than in New York? So many faces, so many buildings. Finding one young girl amongst thousands would certainly be like finding a needle in a haystack, right?  
I was running so fast. Wind that wasn't really there slapped my face, and as I looked down at my hands I noticed the bright blue glow subsided, retreated into the tips of my fingers. I felt a sudden rush as I thought about what I had done- half of me was pleased with the result, basking in the glory of destruction. The other half was utterly terrified of the power that I held. Death. No one person should wield so much power as to choice who dies and lives- but in that moment with the pickup truck, I did choose. I chose to try to kill that creepy old man, or rather, almost kill him. I would learn to call that a defining moment- good or bad didn't matter. My powers were developing, sneaking through my body like a snake slithering up and down my veins. I shivered at the thought, slowing to a walk once again.  
Within another hour, I was walking through times square. My eyes flashed up and down, and I forced the glowing panic to remain hidden. Surely glowing eyes would cause a panic, bring attention... And I knew that half of me would take advantage of the fear to feed my own thirst for power. I don't know why it had suddenly became more evident inside me- I had always wanted to lead something, someone. My mother telling me I was born for great things just fed into that thirst.  
I looked up and down each building, scanned each light. Watched each person, taking it in so fast I hardly realized I was studying my surroundings... I knew this was an ancient instinct, one I had found no need for in the modern world up until now. But there was something about these things coming to life now that made my sudden... Abilities... Seem more alive themselves. I pushed my hands into the pockets of my raincoat, staring at the ground, listening carefully for someone coming at me...  
I put one hand on my necklace, breathing in the scent of what I was guessing my mother really smelt like. Lavender perfume and baby lotion... Another deep, prolonged sniff... Fresh water and spring air freshener. Without realizing it, getting lost in my thoughts and the strong smell of my mothers necklace, I wandered out into the street, my eyes squeezed shut and my head down.  
The beeping of the oncoming car was what made my head snap up, and in the building above me I could see the blurry silhouette of someone standing there, watching the world below him or her. Even though the car was swerving and screeching as it slowed, it would still hit me. I knew it. There was no escaping...  
I clenched my teeth so tight I thought my jaw would shatter. I felt a scream rising in my throat, but instead, my eyes began glowing with that rush of emotions and my body pulsed with energy. I jumped up, landing on the hood as the car came to an abrupt halt.  
Inside was a young girl, staring up at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. I shrugged, mouthing an apology to her as that longing for destruction burned inside of me. I turned, the sunlight glinting off of the golden metal.  
I ran off of the back of the car as the girl inside sped up out of fear and everyone around me began to scream and run. So much for no panicking, I thought. When I jumped, the ground beneath me cracked and glowed just as my veins had, just as the car did. With every step I took away from where I landed, the road returned to its normal black, dirty state. I looked back up at the building, at the person staring down at me. I had a sudden urge to go up there, away from the chaos, but the instinct to run... To run and never stop running... Was ever present in my mind. I put two words to this feeling, the one I didn't wish to explore...  
Deus malum.  
Kind of like your instinct to call your mom your mom. That's how it felt. I froze in place, people bumping into me and running in every direction. It was paralyzing, the way I could feel his eyes penetrating me, watching... It was bringing me towards him and pushing me away all at the same time- yes, it was a him, I was sure now. He was watching me, and though I couldn't see his face, I felt that he wore an expression of... Curiosity... Longing... Fascination...  
Someone pushed me down, holding me there, two hands gripping my shoulders. I pressed my hands up against a flat chest, my eyes wide but unseeing. "Hey!" I shouted, kicking my feet as people crowded around me, tugging at my necklace, my hair, my raincoat...  
"We've had enough of aliens like you!" Someone shouted, "go back to where you came from!"  
"No!" I yelled, "you don't understand! You don't understand! Don't do this! Please, I don't want to hurt you-" but it was too late. A pulse of electricity surged through me, pushing everyone around me to the ground. I scrambled to my feet, squeezing my fists and holding them up as if to fight. They all stared in horror, and the look in their eyes... So afraid... So completely, terribly afraid... I had never seen someone so scared for their life... Eyes glazed over with tears, cheeks pale and just... Not... Human...  
Someone dropped down in front of me, tall, casting a shadow over my smaller body. Everyone stared up, their eyes going cold with hate and fear. They all backed away, either crawling or getting up and running. There was a large circle forming around us, and I stared up at the man before me just as everyone else had.  
He looked down at me with wonder in his piercing green eyes, his long, straight black hair flying back from the force of the wind. "Do you know who I am?" He asked, his accent thick, his lips curving around his words as if he had said them over and over again since the day he was born.  
"N... No..." I struggled, my eyes glowing now with, I was certain, fear. He had jumped from the top of a building, unharmed...  
He sighed. "I am Loki- do you... Do you recognize that name?"  
My eyes moved back and forth between his, my skin glowing and twitching. "No- I- what-"  
"I am Loki of Asgard." He continued, his face more solid, his eyes softer. "I am in hiding, as I expect you are as well. Come with me, child." He reached his hand down. I stared at it for a second before he jerked it towards my arm and lifted me up on his own- he seemed to be avoiding touching my skin. Everyone stared at us.  
"Go back where you came from, monsters!" Someone yelled, running at us.  
Loki practically tapped the mans chest and flew back into the brick building on the other side of the road, cracking it... I could hear it about to fall, about to break. "L- Loki-" I said uncertainly, backing away. "He couldn't have- have hurt me- or... Or you... Why-" I stammered, racking my mind for words.  
"Quiet, child." He growled, the sound from deep in his voice. "Follow me." He began walking, his shoulders bouncing with each step, his long, green cloak flowing behind him. I had to run to keep up with him, maintaining a slow jog. His long, pale fingers curved around my wrist, making sure to touch only my sleeve... Loki of Asgard.  
"Who are you?" I asked, my mind calming at his touch, my glowing eyes returning to their normal green. "Where are we going?"  
"You are already asking too many questions..." He growled, pulling me along and into another, random building. "We are hiding. On the roof."  
"Why the roof?"  
He squinted at me, his green eyes becoming slits and reflecting the sunlight- which had become very bright over the hour and a half I had spent wandering New York.  
"Sorry..." I muttered, trying to pull myself along and up the stairs we were suddenly faced with. "But um... Who are we-" I paused, making sure he didn't seemed annoyed. He didn't. A smirk was growing on his face with each word I spoke. "Who are we hiding from?"  
He smiled at me- it was warm and welcoming despite his cold and terrifying character. His black hair fell to his shoulders, his eyes shining as he looked at me. It seemed like he hadn't had company in a long time.  
"Everyone," he said, "we are running from everyone."


End file.
